Say That You Love Me
by stopnatsu
Summary: Whatever you draw on your skin appears on your soulmate's skin. Naturally, Lucy wants to draw as many pictures for her soulmate as possible. But what happens when her kindred spirit doesn't draw anything back? A.K.A. a "everything you draw on yourself shows up on your soulmate" fic A.K.A. "Lucy draws a million things and Natsu draws one"
1. The Day That Lucy Found Out

There were exactly four days in Jude's life that he did not want to occur. Four entire days that he was not ready to have happen. Four days that, no matter how much planning he had, he would always be unprepared for. These four days put his stomach in knots, made him start to sweat. They were inevitable, something he would have to come to terms with. These were the four days any single father awaited unhappily.

The first day Jude did not want to occur was his little girl's wedding day. Sure, Lucy was only six right now, but kids grew up fast. Just the idea of his beautiful little Lucy growing up and getting married made his hands shake. Emotionally, he would never be ready. He'd never be able to let go of his baby. Never. He didn't even want to think of it.

The second day Jude did not want to come was the day Lucy got her period. Of course, as a single father, he knew he'd be forced to take the lead on this one. But my god, he didn't want to. Talking to his sweet little angel about her menstruation? Not something he was excited for. Of course, this was also years away—but he'd already gotten a stock pile of pads and tampons in the bottom drawer of the bathroom vanity. Just in case.

The third day Jude never wanted to experience was the day Lucy got her first boyfriend. It was on the list for reasons similar to the first day; he didn't want another man to be in her life, take over his place. He wouldn't ever be ready to let go of her. He wouldn't be prepared to see her grow up. But he mostly feared this day because Layla wouldn't be around for when things went south. That first inevitable heartbreak, the crying, the tears…It would break his heart, too. He wouldn't know what to do. Layla was always good at these sorts of things, not him. He wouldn't be ready.

And, finally. The fourth day that Jude was dreading. The day that Lucy found out about soulmates.

They were a common thing in their world, something given to you right when you were born. The second you breathed your first breath, the universe picked a person specifically meant for you. And, of course, there was only one way to communicate with your soulmate until you met face to face.

By drawing on yourself.

That's how soulmates communicated, right until they met. They could interact right from the get go. You drew a line on your cheek, and your soulmate would have that same exact line show up on their cheek. It wasn't unusual to see people's arms littered with special little drawings their soulmate had given them. It was sweet, really.

Except he knew that Lucy, upon learning of this intimate bond with a stranger, would be absolutely obsessed with it. She loved romance movies, love songs, the works. _This_ —having her perfect person be simply a drawing away—would capture all of her attention. She would never shut up about the drawings her soulmate gave to her, or what she drew them each day. He loved his daughter with entire heart, but he could see this become very, _very_ annoying.

But, he waited on baited breath, in the hopes that maybe the education system would fail his daughter on this specific topic. Maybe she'd miss the day they taught all of the children about soulmates. Maybe they would just stop teaching about it. Maybe, if he was _super_ lucky, the idea wouldn't interest Lucy in the slightest.

But despite Jude's nightly prayers, the day _did_ arrive. And he knew instantly.

He'd driven to the school as he always did, prepared to pick up his little one from first grade. He watched as her and her little pack of pals walked out of the front of the elementary school, all whispering and chatting to each other. This was not unusual; the girls were always blabbering on to each other about something. But _this_ time, they were all looking down at little Erza's arm, giggling excitedly.

"Oh no," He'd grumbled under his breath as he came to the realization. "Not already."

Lucy had said goodbye to her friends and then jogged over to Jude's car, little hands holding on tightly to her backpack straps. She opened the car door, slid into the passenger seat, and closed the door behind her.

There was a split second of silence, and Jude hoped he'd just misinterpreted what her and her friends were doing.

"Daddy, was Mommy your soulmate?"

Jude's shoulders sagged. He let out a breath, admitting defeat. The first day he was dreading had officially arrived. Knowing the only option he had was to accept defeat, Jude responded honestly. He flicked on his turning signal, pulling away from the school loading zone, headed towards their home. "Yes, she was."

"What was the first drawing she ever sent you?"

He thought back for a moment, and then glanced down at his little girl. "A flower."

"How old were you?"

He shrugged. "I was…ten? Nine, maybe?"

Lucy frowned slightly. "Why so old?"

"Back in my day, they didn't teach kids about soulmates until grade five." He paused for a few seconds before mumbling under his breath, "Looks like they teach it earlier, now. _Too early, if you ask me_."

The little blonde blinked. "Oh. Makes sense." She cast her eyes out of the window, over the passing city. "What was the first thing you drew her?"

Jude kept his eyes on the road, cheeks getting hot. He couldn't help but blush at the topic of conversation—after all, it was incredibly intimate. Discussing soulmates, especially specific details such as the specific drawings you gave and received…it wasn't common. Because having a soulmate was such an intimate feeling, such an intimate bond, it was common knowledge that you didn't really pry into other people's business. Of course, it was different when you had a child—they weren't prying, just trying to understand. But still, it was hard for him to talk about. It was so…private.

"I drew her…" Jude trailed off, thinking back to his younger days, "A flower back."

"What kind of flower?"

Jude smiled at his daughter's interest. Another personal question—one that if she weren't his daughter, he wouldn't have answered. "A daisy. I went to the library and took out a big book about flowers. Took me two days to flip through that thing and find a flower I thought was the prettiest. And then I practiced on a sheet of paper for another day and a half so it wouldn't look terrible. Then, I drew it for her."

"Where'd you draw it?"

He swallowed; his throat was getting a little thick thinking about his lovely wife. "The palm of my hand."

"How did it turn out?" Lucy inquired, turning her gaze back to her father now.

Jude turned his signal on, pulling off of the main road and into their neighborhood now. "Terrible. Looked like it was wilted. Just about the worst drawing of a flower anyone has ever seen."

Lucy giggled at that. "Did Mommy like it?"

He peered down at his daughter. "She responded with a smiley face—so, I think so."

That made Lucy smile; her chubby little cheeks were flushed with happiness. It seemed to take her a few long moments to digest all of the information her father had given her. Two minutes later, as they pulled into their driveway and Jude put the car in park, Lucy asked one more question.

"When Mommy died, did you stop getting drawings?"

Jude looked down at the little girl, a sad smile slowly working its way onto his lips. "Yeah. Except for one."

Lucy frowned. "How come?"

Jude stuck out his arm, hiking his shirt sleeve up, folding it so his inner forearm was showing. On it, a small image of a rose lay across his skin. "When your mom got her diagnosis, she planned this. One last drawing. She got a tattoo…so it's with me forever."

Lucy looked down at the little rose, then back up to her father. "And you were in love? You and Mommy?"

Jude couldn't help but smile. She looked just like Layla, like a miniature version of her. Even the little sparkle in her eyes, the ferocity in her grin…it was just like her mother. "Completely."

"Hm." Lucy seemed pleased with that response. She grabbed her backpack and opened the car door, hopping out of it and closing it behind her. Jude did the same, locking the car as the pair made their way up to the house. "So, when you met, what was it like?"

Jude grabbed the house key, sticking it in the keyhole and opening the door to their home. He watched as little Lucy walked in and sat on the little bench in the foyer, taking her sandals off. "Like magic."

"How'd you know that she was the one you'd been drawing all along?"

Jude shrugged. "There's no real way to explain it. It's just…you see her, and you know. The bond is that strong. She was just _the one_. That's it."

She shrugged her backpack off. "Was it the same for her?"

"Yup—well, I think so. She just walked up to me and kissed me." He paused, smiling back on the memory. "She was a firecracker."

"So, what's the point of it, then?" Lucy inquired, big brown eyes looking up at her dad.

"The point?" He repeated. "Of soulmates?"

"What's the point of the drawings? Why not just have soulmates be together right away?"

"Well," Jude said, leaning against the wall, shutting the front door behind them. He crossed his arms. "Because not everyone is ready for their soulmate right away. You have to do some growing first. You've got to become a person worthy of your soulmate. I met your mother when I was 22—trust me when I say I wasn't ready to meet her before then. She wouldn't have liked me."

"Then, what's the point in letting soulmates draw to each other?"

"Because," Jude murmured softly, "There are times in your life when things are going to be hard. Really hard. And you'll be alone." He paused. "When those times come…you've got someone there for you. You might not be ready to meet them, but you're bond is so strong that you can't just be _without_ them. So, you can draw to each other. And when you're ready to meet them, you will—and they'll blow you away."

Lucy smiled at his last comment. "That's so dreamy," She murmured, her voice going into that dreamlike state she'd go into after she'd seen a romantic movie. "I can't wait. What should I draw him? A cat? Maybe he won't like cats, maybe he's a dog person. Maybe he hates animals. No, no. There's no way he hates animals. My soulmate wouldn't hate animals, would he? Because I don't think I could love someone who hates animals. And he's supposed to blow me away—so you say—and all. So, no. He has to love them. But would he love a cat or a dog? Dad, what do you think?"

Jude sighed. He was right—she'd never shut up about it. "I don't know, Lucy. You're the one who's got a bond with him."

Lucy frowned. "Right." She stood, letting out a sigh. "Well, I'll be in my room. I've got a lot of drawing to do."

Jude sighed again, shaking his head as his daughter stomped off determinedly to her room. "Try not to harass him, sweetie."

"No promises!" She called back, adding in, "He's gonna love it!"

Jude looked down at the little rose, permanently etched into his arm. A symbol of eternal love from his beautiful wife. God, he'd miss her forever. "Oh Layla," He muttered, realizing just how much of a handful Lucy would be now, "You would've loved to see this."

* * *

 **A/N: Hey readers! It's a new story! Hope you aren't sick of a good ol' soulmate trope. Anyways, I'm hoping for this story to be pretty short and sweet, I'm currently thinking maybe 4 chapters, just a little mini story? I know I've said this before (*ahem* remember when Life In Technicolor was going to be 5 chapters? And ultimately ended up being 29?) but I really think this one can only go for a short amount of chapters. Anyways, let me know what you think! I love your support, I love reading the reviews you guys leave me. Thank you so much for everything!**


	2. Levy's Got A Drawing

Lucy's eyes traced over the little black drawing, carefully noticing the details. It was small and sloppy, but created with care; the artist had traced over it twice to emphasise the lines, to make them darker. She leaned in closer, staring at the drawing with hard eyes.

"Geez, Lucy—you don't need to stare so hard."

The words snapped Lucy out of her little daze; her eyes flickered away from the little drawing, back up to her friends. "Oh," Lucy murmured, voice quieter than usual. "Sorry."

Lucy glanced back down at the drawing in Levy's palm, trying to contain the sheer jealousy that was building in her chest. Levy had drawn one single, detailed drawing for her soulmate and had received a response a mere three hours later; Lucy had coated her entire body in ink and hadn't received a single response. Of course, she was happy for Levy—but she couldn't help but wish she'd gotten a drawing instead.

"So, how did it happen?" Erza asked, holding Levy's hand so she could inspect the little piece of art.

"Well," Levy shrugged, cheeks going pink as she discussed it. "I drew this little book on the back of my hand when I got home—and a couple hours later, he drew one back."

Lucy turned Levy's hand over to see her drawing. It was detailed and neat, a perfectly proportioned miniature recreation of her favorite book on the back of her hand. It was a stark comparison to the sloppy little stickman her soulmate had placed on the inside of her palm.

"This is so exciting!" Juvia squeaked out with a grin. "I can't wait until my soulmate gives me a drawing."

Erza shook her head. "Don't get too excited, Juvia," She murmured. "You heard what Mrs. Muller said yesterday—it's rare to get a response so quickly. Some people wait years."

Juvia frowned, crossing her arms. "I still don't get it—why would you have to wait _years_?"

"Because," The redhead explained. She'd been the only one of the girls to continue paying attention to the lesson after they'd explained the premise of having a soulmate; the others had been too excited about the idea of their soulmate to listen. "It can be too much for some people. Too emotional, or something. And since we learned about it so young…chances are we won't get a response for a while."

Juvia's excited grin had melted away. "Well, I think that's dumb."

Lucy turned back to Levy. "What was it like?" She paused for a second. "Getting the drawing, I mean."

"Well…" Levy began, but paused soon after.

She peered up, glancing around the classroom. Around them, classmates were sitting in their desks, awaiting the morning bell for class to begin. Noticing how many people were around them, Levy pulled the girls into the far corner, away from the chattering crowds.

It's funny how quickly Levy's stance on the subject of soulmates had changed. During the lesson about soulmates, the teachers had warned the children that it wasn't a subject many people were interested in speaking about; it was far too personal, too private to share. It was common etiquette to not ever bring up someone's soulmate or the drawings on their skin—that's just the way it was.

The girls had mentioned how silly that seemed. Everyone had a soulmate—so why be shy about it? Why not be able to discuss it openly, and be proud of the subject? Levy in particular couldn't wrap her head around why it was a shunned topic—it just didn't make sense for her.

But here she was, leading the girls away into the quiet far corner of the classroom, unable to openly speak about the incident she had with her soulmate knowing others might hear her. Because this single, tiny communication she'd had with her soulmate was so incredibly intimate that she couldn't bear the idea of anyone else knowing. It was something so horribly private that it was hard for her to even tell the girls, her best friends for life.

Speaking about it was the emotional equivalent of stripping naked in front of everyone. You were breakable, delicate, fragile. Giving someone else a look into something this intimate…it felt wrong. It felt like something between you and your soulmate, and that was it. A secret for only you two to know.

But Levy was young and these were her best friends, and she had to tell them about it.

Once they were sufficiently far enough away, Levy let out a shaky whisper.

"It was like…magic."

Lucy frowned. "Magic?"

"Like…I was laying in bed, ready to go to sleep. And then all of a sudden…I could feel him. Beside me. And his hand was holding my hand—and I could feel the pen on my skin. And when I turned on my lamp, I could see the ink on my palm, drawing." She paused, her eyes flashing to the floor; she seemed to be struggling to find the right words. "And he wasn't there, but he was. It felt…special. And I don't know why, but I think he knew it was, too. We were together, for a split second."

The girls were all quiet for a long few moments, drinking in the words Levy had just said. Until then, the idea of a soulmate hadn't seemed quite so… _serious_. The teachers had explained that it was the most serious thing they'd ever deal with, that it would change them in incredible ways, but they hadn't really understood it. How could they, until they experienced it for themselves? But hearing Levy talk about it, hearing her voice shake when she mentioned _him_ , seeing that strange new maturity in her eyes…it began to dawn on them.

This wasn't some schoolyard crush. This wasn't something easy, something fleeting. These drawings…they connected them to the people that they were meant to be with. Their soulmates.

Lucy swallowed, fear rushing through her veins. She didn't know why—but it seemed scary, now. Being able to draw something and communicate with your soulmate. It was this fear that the teachers were telling them about—it was why some people chose not to respond until they were ready. For some, it was too real, too serious, too intimate. For some, it would take time.

Lucy's little hand balled up into a fist.

She felt the fear, but she could overcome it. Because the urge to get a drawing back, to feel the things Levy had felt…it was stronger.

The bell rang and the girls returned to their seats. Class began, but Lucy didn't care enough to pay attention. Instead, she pulled out her pack of colored pens and began to draw, filling in every single gap on her arms that she'd failed to draw in the previous night.

She smiled as she drew, knowing that she was one step closer to finding her soulmate.

 **A/N:** **Short, tiny chapter. I know. I didn't want it to be but I was just feeling a bit uninspired and couldn't make sense of anything I wanted to write-so I decided to get this bit out so I can move on and hopefully be more inspired with the next few! I'm working on the next chapter right away so shouldn't be long, hopefully it will be up today as well. I'll try to be more consistent with my writing!**


	3. Not Enough

Lucy didn't get a response that night.

Or the night after that. Or the night after that. Or the following night. In fact, she didn't get a response for many nights—so many nights that she'd lost count. Days, weeks, months passed. Nothing. Not a single dot of ink from her soulmate. No drawings, no sense of being together, no magic. Just silence. Years trickled by.

The girls began to grow up. They'd moved from grade one to grade two in no time; from grade two to grade three just as quickly. The excitement and curiosity about soulmates began to wane and wear off; slowly, bit by bit, the concept became a part of everyday life for them. They didn't rush to each other in the morning, demanding to know if anyone had gotten a response from their soulmate. They didn't spend every waking moment chatting about what they hoped their soulmates were like. Slowly, day by day, the girls began to grow out of their wonder.

Except for Lucy, of course.

Lucy was as determined as ever. Years passing by with no response didn't seem to phase her much; she was frustrated, sure, but her dedication never wavered. She would come home from school and scrub all of the ink from her skin and start again, drawing beautiful new pictures for her soulmate to admire.

And Jude watched as his daughter continued to draw, continued to be absolutely in love with the idea of love. And god, he was terrified—but he admired her for it.

She still asked a lot of questions. Sometimes, she'd ask the same questions over and over, trying to make sense of everything in her brain. She was like her mother in that sense—they wanted to compartmentalize every bit of information they received. Lucy seemed mystified by the idea of her soulmate being out there—and even more mystified by the fact that this supposed soulmate was out there and simply _decided_ not to reply to her.

Jude initially wondered if he should be worried. Would Lucy's focus on getting a response from her soulmate distract her from her current, everyday life? Would she be too caught up in what could be rather than what is?

But he'd look at his little girl, and he'd see that fierce determination in her eyes—nearly identical to the same look on Layla's face when he'd first met her, and he couldn't force himself to intervene. That was his little girl, and this was who she was. Fierce, headstrong, stubborn…she'd force her soulmate to reply if she had to. She'd pester that boy until he broke.

And Jude absolutely adored her.

He knew if Layla was here, she'd be laughing. She'd watch Lucy draw carefully, watch her put her entire heart and soul into that ink. Layla would praise their girl, tell her to chase her dreams and follow her heart. Layla would support their girl no matter what.

And so, Jude would too. He'd be there, all the way. Even when the other parents gave them funny looks because his daughter was in the middle of a restaurant using the children's crayons to draw a butterfly on her forearm, he'd be there. He'd smile and he'd help in any way he could.

Because Layla would've wanted him to.

Things settled a little as Lucy grew older. She still drew pictures all over her arms and legs for her soulmate to wake up to, but she wasn't as obsessed with the concept. By grade seven, she'd stopped pestering Jude with questions. She'd taken every book about soulmates from the library and read them several times; once she'd finished, she'd go through them all again and reread them. Her frustration had become more internal; she didn't go to bed moping about anymore because she hadn't gotten a response.

But, even after all of these years, she hadn't given up. She'd decided to be an absolute constant force, one that wouldn't desert her soulmate despite his silence. She would be there, through thick and thin. She figured, as his soulmate, it was her job.

But even the strongest fall down sometimes—and there was bound to be a moment of weakness for Lucy.

That moment of weakness occurred in eight grade.

It had been a normal day. Lucy had woken up to her alarm blaring in her ear. Exhausted, she'd made her way downstairs for breakfast with her dad. She'd shoved her blueberry pancakes in her mouth, chugging back some milk while chatting with her dad, as per usual. And just like she did every day, Lucy finished her meal and headed up to her room, and checked over her arms and legs, looking for any signs of a drawing from her soulmate.

Of course, there was nothing. She'd known that. She'd been expecting that. She'd gone through this ritual every single day for years, and nothing had changed. Besides—she hadn't felt the magic. The magic Levy described, the sensation every single person who'd ever communicated with their soulmate talked about. There hadn't been any magic, any connection today. And so, when Lucy didn't find any new, unfamiliar drawings, she simply got up and got changed for school.

She'd gotten on the bus, her headphones in her ears. She'd watched the town whirl by as she stared out the window, just like every other day.

But when she'd gotten to school, everything had changed.

"Hey, Levy," Lucy had mumbled as she walked into class, dumping her bag on her desk. She flopped into her seat with a heavy breath; she'd had a terrible sleep and was far too exhausted for the school day. "What's up?"

"Not much," Levy had murmured. She was distracted; she was busy finishing up a detailed little drawing on the inside of her palm. "Just talking with him. How's your morning going?"

"Meh," Lucy said, opting to watch Levy draw rather than stare glumly at her textbooks.

It had been several years now that Levy had been communicating with her soulmate; they'd gotten to the point where they sent each other a drawing every couple days, just to check up on one another. Levy swore every drawing felt just as magical as the first one, but it had become a happy little routine of hers.

Her soulmate was an extremely intimate topic, and she didn't like to talk about him much; she equated speaking about him to sharing her most important secret. But, Lucy was her best friend, and Levy had been communicating with him for so long…this was normal. Lucy had seen Levy draw several pictures for her soulmate.

Before Levy had the chance to complete her drawing to her satisfaction, the classroom doors flew open and two bodies walked through: Juvia and Erza. The pair made their way over to Levy and Lucy, joining them.

"Something's wrong with Erza," Juvia noted, taking a seat beside Levy and crossing her arms.

Lucy frowned. "What do you mean?"

Erza rolled her eyes. "Nothing's wrong with me."

"Look at her!" Juvia muttered, shaking her head as she ignored Erza's words. "She spent the entire bus ride all quiet, with this moody look on her face. Something is very wrong."

Lucy and Levy peered up at Erza, searching her face.

She looked like she normally did; her stark red hair was tied back into a long ponytail and her clothes were crisp as per usual. Her expression was flat, giving Juvia a look of annoyance.

Levy sighed. "She looks fine to me, Juvia."

"See?" Erza sneered. "I look fine to her."

Lucy's eyes searched Erza's face as she playfully bickered with Juvia. Levy was right—everything appeared to be in order, just like they normally would. Her expression, her voice…the same as they always were. But Juvia was right—there was something off about Erza. Lucy wasn't quite sure what it was.

She narrowed her eyes, staring at Erza.

Erza flicked Lucy on the nose; Lucy flinched and let out a little cry as she rubbed the tip of her nose.

"Ow! What was that for?"

Erza glanced at her, smirking. "Quit staring, dummy."

Lucy looked at Erza, about to throw back a witty retort, but something about the redhead made her freeze. Lucy's brown eyes landed on Erza's, instantly recognizing a look of…something strange inside of them. Lucy gasped, realizing what about her friend was so different.

Her eyes. Behind them was a strange look, one that Erza didn't have yesterday. It was a look of maturity, like Erza understood something that Lucy had yet to figure out.

"What's wrong?" Juvia asked, alarmed by Lucy's gasp.

"it's—" Lucy began, stuttering, still staring at Erza's eyes. "You— _Erza,_ did you get a drawing?"

Levy gasped, then followed Lucy's lead and turned to stare at Erza. Juvia blinked, a little confused for a moment, before ultimately turning to Erza and asking, "Is _that_ what's been going on with you today?"

Erza rolled her eyes, cheeks going red hot. Maybe it was the pressure of having her three best friends staring at her, demanding answers—or maybe it was the specific topic they were questioning her on that was making her blush. Either way, Erza blushing was very telling—throughout the years Lucy had known the redhead, she'd never seen her blush.

"Maybe."

"I knew it!" Lucy sputtered, lips spreading into a wide grin.

Levy clapped her hands together. "So? How was it?"

Juvia tucked her hands under her chin, leaning in. "Oooh, tell us."

"Relax," Erza mumbled, rolling her eyes again. She pulled up her long sleeves, revealing a little cluster of stars beside her elbow. "Happened last night, out of nowhere."

"What did it feel like?" Lucy asked, interest piqued. She'd been desperately waiting to meet another person who'd communicated with their soulmate so she could hear what it was like—she wanted as much information on it as possible.

Erza's cheeks grew to a darker shade of red. "Like…nothing I could've imagined."

"In a good way?" Juvia asked.

"In the best way." Erza paused, struggling to find the appropriate words. "It was like nothing else existed but him and me, and…" she trailed off, shrugging. "Magic."

Lucy swallowed, peering down. At the edge of her sleeves, she could just see the start of one of her drawing peeking out over the fabric. Her heart skipped a beat.

"Did you draw anything back?" Juvia asked.

Erza shrugged. "Not yet."

Lucy frowned. "Why not?"

Erza made a face. "I don't know what to draw."

Levy shook her head. "Well, you've gotta draw something!"

"Like _what?_ "

"Maybe some stars back?" Juvia offered. "But something more personal might be best."

Erza swallowed. "Personal?"

"Here," Levy said, offering the redhead a pen. "Draw from the heart."

The three girls watched Erza mutter out nonsense, put the pen to her skin, and freeze. She stood there, still as a rock, for at least thirty seconds. Then, she scribbled out a small drawing before peering back up at her friends. She flashed them her wrist, showing the drawing. "Is this okay?"

Levy put her head down; Juvia let out a groan.

Lucy ran her eyes over her friend's wrist, letting out a snort when she realized that Erza had just sent her soulmate a tiny little sketch of a knife.

"Very romantic," Lucy murmured sarcastically. "You'll knock him right off his feet."

Erza shot her a glare. "Don't make me hurt you."

The bell rang, signalling class would begin soon; the girls got settled into their seats, halting the conversation for a more private moment later.

And maybe she would've been okay, if that was all that had happened. She could've gone on with her life, been disappointed by her silent soulmate—but she would've been alright. She would've gone home and talked with her dad and run up to her room to draw on her arms again. She would've gone to bed hopeful for something more.

But Erza wasn't the only one to get a drawing that day.

In the middle of class, Juvia let out a little gasp. Lucy, who sat beside her, frowned and asked if she was alright. But Juvia seemed confused, in a daze; she frowned and peered down at her wrist, touching it with her other hand. And then, before either girl understood what was happening, little black lines began to appear on Juvia's wrist.

When Lucy looked back up at Juvia, the blue haired girl was silently sobbing tears of joy.

She'd said the same thing—magic. Utter magic.

Lucy went home early, right after that class. She'd walked home with tears in her eyes, her heart shattering to pieces.

She was the only one out of the girls who hadn't received a response. It had been years and he hadn't replied. She'd been so excited to communicate with her soulmate, but he clearly didn't feel the same.

When Lucy walked in the door, Jude was already home.

"Lucy?" He called, rushing to her when he noticed the tears streaming down her cheeks. "What's wrong?"

"Dad," Lucy sniffled, begging for answers, "Why doesn't my soulmate love me?"

He tucked her hair behind her ears, petting her head. "He does, my girl—he does."

"Just not enough," She whispered, bursting into tears and throwing herself at her father, crying into his shoulder.

Jude hugged her to him, pressing his lips together, trying to hold back tears.

Lucy closed her eyes.

"He doesn't love me enough."


End file.
